Winter Wars- The Dragon, The Wolf and The Lion
by MizzMarie729
Summary: Jaime has decided that Cersei has turned into the mad king, desperate for redemption and to become his own man, he turns to Winterfell. Sansa and Jon have become close, but Jon's fear get in the way. This creates a love triangle between the three as the figure out what they want in the middle of the most important battles of their lives. Jonsa Jaisa - full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1: Moonlight

**Winter Wars– The Dragon, The Lion, and The Wolf**

Summary: Jaime has decided to cast Cersei aside and fight for what is right. Sansa and Jon have grown close since taking Winterfell, developing feelings they can't deny for long. Jamie learns to be a whole new man, a worthy man, by fighting for someone worthy. Sansa finds herself torn between her half-brother who she has fallen in love with, and the handsome knight whose sworn his loyalty and eventually heart to her. How will Sansa handle the feelings growing for Jaime when she is in love with someone else. A love triangle between a Dragon, A Lion, and a wolf… this may seem OC for a lot, but I feel Jamie has been pushed to the point that he realizes he has potential to do the right thing, and Sansa Stark was a little helpless child when they first met versus now as a grown woman who has faced many changes and challenges. This is based off the SHOW NOT THE BOOKS. So none of that she is a child he is a man horse dung. There will also be some Brienne Jamie stuff... I am not sure how I will work this in as I am ultimately a fan of these two getting together. But I also like the idea of Jamie and Sansa, and then I love the idea of Jon and Sansa. SO I don't know what direction this will actually go in.

Chapter 1: Moonlight

 _ **Jaime Lannister**_

* * *

Jaime sat upon his horse not far from the castle of Winterfell, this visit could only go two ways: Good or Bad. Thoughts flashed back in his mind of the moment he arrived at Kingslanding to see Cersei on the throne, he could see in her eyes what he always suspected – madness.

She had lost everything she cared for other than herself, and he realized at that moment the love he thought they shared was all in his mind. She loved about him what he wasn't any longer, the parts that were most like her.

He knew Brienne would be on his side, she was his only true friend in the world, a part of him loved her in a way he couldn't love Cersei, but he couldn't love her the way he could see she loved him.

Something caught his eye, in the window not far away red flames danced in the breeze, pale skin kissed by the moonlight. She could almost look like a Targaryen the way she glowed, perhaps this was what true happiness caused in the Northern folk, for Sansa Stark never glowed in Kingslanding the way she glowed this night.

She was a woman now, not the young Stark wolf pup Cersei tormented- she was Cersei's rival now in every way. For a moment, Jaime thought her gaze had turned to his, that her eyes were capturing his – but like a ghost she vanished from sight.

The cold air nipped at Jaime's skin, he was not as accustomed to this weather compared to his first visit. Jaime waited the night, the Ghost of Sansa Stark haunting him. He knew he was no friend to her in Kingslanding, and had Cersei ordered her head in the beginning, he may have well taken it. _A cruel twist of fate then, that she should be my queen. Should she have me in her guard. It was not long ago I shoved her young brother from a window, I would not blame her if she shoved me from the very same one. I would welcome it, to end the cruelties this world wishes you would endure._

 _ **Sansa Stark**_

* * *

The air nips at Sansa's delicate skin as she changes into her night attire. Brienne of Tarth sitting by the fire waiting for her. She knew the request, it was one she had made days ago, and waited patiently for her to come to decision upon.

She felt guilty, once more going behind Jon's back. Kind, Noble, stubborn Jon… the one she had begun to grow so close to. Everyday Jon and she played the perfect diplomats, so often they were regarded as Lord and Lady Stark, the spitting image of the former Catelyn and Eddard Stark – which at first felt awkward.

She began to see why they would see it, but she was nothing like Catelyn, not anymore. At night, she got to know the real Jon, the tender Jon, the wounded Jon, the one who wanted a simple quiet life at Winterfell like her own dreams. They would joke about the irony of it all, both had wanted so badly to leave Winterfell behind, and now Winterfell is all they desired.

The cruelest joke was the feelings Sansa could feel herself beginning to feel for her half-brother, the kind of feelings you shouldn't have for a sibling. A part of her knew this was because they were never siblings to begin with, Castle Black was the first time really meeting and getting to know one another. She just didn't know how not to think about him the way she had begun to. The Bastard son her mother hated and taught her to hate growing up.

She wondered often what Jon really thought of her, did he feel like she was his sister? Did she remind him of the woman he talked about – Ygritte? Did he still resent her? She couldn't help but notice the glances and stares he would send her way when he thought she wasn't paying attention.

"Milady?" Brienne interrupted Sansa's thoughts as she brushed her hair, staring at her reflection in the mirror, the broken girl not worthy of the King of the North. Worthy of no one. If only she knew how wrong she was.

"Yes, Brienne," Sansa started from her thoughts looking to the one person other than Jon she trusted.

"I promised Jaime that this night we would have an answer," Brienne tried to pretend like it didn't matter to her, but Sansa could see this meant a great deal to Brienne.

"You truly believe him to be trust worthy?" Sansa asked setting her brush down onto her cherry wooden boudoir.

"On my honor milady," Brienne tipped her head in respect, "if it was not for Sir Jaime I would not have been able to free you from the Bolton's. He made a promise to your late mother, and he has shown me time and time again deep down he is a good man."

"Upon your word of him, I shall meet," Sansa said hesitantly. Perhaps she should talk to Jon about it, but Brienne requested she meet Jaime to see for herself before taking the matters to the King of the North.

"Thank you, milady, this means a great deal. Your faith in me brings me great joy," Brienne couldn't look Sansa in the eyes, she knew she asked a lot of Sansa to go behind Jon's back after Sansa worked so hard to win back Jon's trust in her.

"No regards needed Brienne, I trust you with me life, I owe you my life," Sansa smiled warmly at her guard. Sansa always felt safe with Brienne beside her because she knew Brienne would give her life for her, something she knew Jon would do to.

 _ **Jaime Lannister**_

* * *

Jaime was caught off guard when he heard horse hooves approaching his small hidden camp. It wasn't long before he saw the blonde hair of Brienne and her shining armor glistening under the moons bright light. Behind her on a beautiful dappled gray horse with a thick neck sat the silhouette of a hooded figure. Jaime didn't realize he was holding his breath until the hooded figure slipped off her tall horse and with long slender pale fingers slid her dark green hood revealing fire red hair.

 _Catelyn,_ was all he could think as his eyes adjusted to find a more beautiful creature before him. She was in every way her mother's better and more. He didn't know much of Catelyn Stark other than her fierce love for her children, her bravery, her cunning, and her loyalty to those she loved. Jaime could see this in Sansa and so much more. She stood there, unafraid, her chin held high, her should square, posture of a confident queen – not the scared little girl she was in Kings Landing.

"My Queen," Jaime finally realized he was staring open mouthed as he fell to a knee and bent his head in submission.

"The brother of my enemy, Jaime Lannister," Sansa's tone dripped venom.

"I admit, I am the brother of your enemy," Jaime said still kneeled, "but the enemy of my enemy is my friend – is it not?"

"How am I to believe that you are not still your sisters sick guard dog, here to latch onto my throat?" Sansa asked, her arms crossed, her tone showing no fear.

"I was once that, I will not deny it, but I can assure you, I am not the same man that I was," Jaime said still on his knees, hoping she would be the one to relieve her, "though I must admit you have a pretty neck…"

"Jaime," Brienne hissed trying to curb his jokester tongue. Sansa smirked, but she wasn't as amused as he had hoped she would.

"I must admit, you look good on your knees…" Sansa heard Brienne gasp in surprise, her hips shifted as she switched from one leg to the other, still watching the King slayer on his knees before her, "Was my neck not pretty in Kings landing?"

"Your neck was young and betrothed, my eyes were cloudy and blind, milady," Jaime smirked, amused by her own sense of humor, "I would gladly stay on my knees for you though Queen of the North."

"Is that so?" Sansa could feel a heat in her cheeks as Jaime's jokes grew more personal, and less discrete. His own wit bringing out a cheekiness in her own language.

"I wish to serve you, in any way you wish," a smile hidden by the hair that fell forward, she couldn't see that he tried watching her from behind his own locks.

"How can I know your words ring true?" Sansa tried to get back onto topic, she had never had much conversation with the handsome captain of the Kings Guard, but his tongue reminded her much of her former Husband's Tyrion.

"I swore your mother an oath to return you to Winterfell, to keep you safe," Jaime grew serious, feeling an ache come to his knees. He was still young, and even aging did not steal the beauty he began to despise, but he could feel age creeping into his body – his knees in particular as he sat upon one on them, "I wish to further honor your mother's memory. She was a king and brave woman, and she loved you children with the fiercest of passions. I can see so much of her in you, yet – you are her better."

"So then shall we call you Oath Keeper?" Sansa asked watching him for a moment. She was returned to Winterfell, not unharmed but that was not due to any fault of his, but of Peytr Baelish and Ramsey Bolton, "rise, Ser Jaime."

"Thank you, your grace," he said standing up, smoothing his hair back. Finding himself for the first time self-conscious of his appearance as he stood there before the beautiful Wolf Queen, "my only regret is that I could not deliver you home sooner. I was sorry to hear about your wedding to Ramsay Bolton, everyone in the seven kingdoms knew of his cruelness."

"Yes, I s'pose that is so. Little Finger still tries to deny his knowledge of such, but what I use to mistake for care and compassion, I now see as manipulation and a pawn," Sansa nearly snarled as she thought of it all.

"Little Finger, he is the cause of many of your misfortunes," Jaime said quietly thinking of the snake that was Peytr Baelish, "is he here in court?"

"No, he is away at the Vale dealing with some private things. He will be on his way back soon," Brienne added in. You could hear the distaste in her voice about the vermin that was Little Finger.

"I have much to tell you on Little Finger, such as how he is the reason for your father's murder," Jaime said as his eyes locked with Sansa's blue ones. He couldn't deny the little Stark girl that he hardly noticed grew into such a beautiful and powerful woman. He could feel a spark inside of him as their eyes stayed locked for a moment.

"I wish to hear more of this, but it is quite cold out here," Sansa said distracted in her own thoughts, "are you alone?"

"I have several thousand men back several leagues, men to use at your command and yours alone," Jaime said dipping his head in respect. She knew she would need to be careful with this one, he could either be a great asset, or bring their destruction. Sansa couldn't pretend like it didn't give her a secret joy to rub in Cersei's face she was not only alive and well, but that she had Cersei's brother and once lover at her side.

"I ask one simple request if you are to be a part of my Queen's guard," Sansa said pridefully, feeling a strange sense of power she hoped wouldn't destroy her.

"Anything," Jaime said bowing his head, his hand on his heart.

"I want complete and utter honesty, even if it's something you wish to not speak of, or something you are too prideful to share, or if it's something you think I won't want to hear," Sansa took a few steps towards him, her face now only several inches from his as he stood up straight, "is this clear?"

"Of course, your grace, my knowledge is yours," Jaime said caught in her eyes, he could see she was searching his for any hint of lying or reason to not trust him, he was certain after the things he heard she experienced she could read a man's eyes well.

"You may take shelter in the castle, I will deal with my brother tonight," Sansa said turning from Jaime, her movements dripping with finesse, "Brienne, please see to it he finds a room somewhere in the lower half of the wings. We don't want him noticed yet."

"Yes, milady," Brienne dipped her head in respect before mounting her horse. Sansa was quick in her saddle, something that told Jaime she spent more time in a saddle then in a carriage. The opposite of Cersei. After Sansa took off at a canter ahead of them towards the castle Jaime finally let out the breath he was holding, a smile on his face.

"What a woman," Jaime smirked a smirk Brienne loved, the kind that was playful.

"Yes, she is," Brienne smiled after her lady, "I told you that I doubt you met many if any women like her."

"You are most certainly right," Jaime climbed on behind Brienne so they could head to the castle of Winterfell.

 _ **Jon Snow**_

* * *

The fire crackled, sending dancing lights onto the wall, Jon was dozing off in the chair of his study – a large glass of ale half empty in front of him. He was startled by the soft touch of tender hands on his shoulders. He could feel silky hair tickle his scruffy cheeks as Sansa leaned over his shoulder.

"You are doing it again –" she teased leaving a small kiss upon his cheek. He could feel the heat of her soft lips against his skin, it caused his face to flush, "- to bed with you."

"Aye," Jon had a bit too much to drink again, the growing demands of being King were over whelming. He felt even more intoxicated by her scent, the one he had grown so use to, "where were you tonight?"

"I was taking care of business," Sansa said softly as she tried to help him up.

"I can tend to myself," Jon said quietly, the alcohol stealing his vision.

"Jon, you can share the burdens you know," Sansa was frustrated that he was drunk again. He was heavy, all that muscle weighed more then she expected.

"You've known enough burden," Jon stumbled, his arm around Sansa's neck, as she led him to his bed, "where were you tonight?"

"Jon," Sansa said a bit harsher then intended, "I am sorry I was late. I told you I had something to deal with. As for burden, you have known equal amounts if not more. Do not be afraid to share the burden with me."

"I just want to protect you," Jon mumbled as he plopped onto the bed, "I promised you that."

"You owe me nothing Jon, and you know this," Sansa tried to remove the large wolf pelt covering him. It took a minute and some struggle the kind that caused him to laugh, the dimples on his cheek making Sansa feel a strange sensation in the pit of her belly. Finally, she was down to his tunic, she untied it the best she could.

"Why are you wearing your riding cloak?" Jon grew serious.

"We can talk about it tomorrow," Sansa said lifting his shirt over him. His hand was quick grasping her wrist.

"Sansa?" he asked, his dark eyes focusing on hers.

"Jon," she said with equal determination. His free hand reached up and delicately touched her face, Sansa closed her eyes melting into his warm hand.

"Your skin is ice cold, like you've been outside," Jon's voice was full of accusations.

"Jon please," Sansa opened her eyes and looked down into his, his hand gently cupped the bottom of her chin, something felt intimate in his gesture.

"I just want to protect you," Jon said firmly this time, sounding soberer then he had. Sansa's body fell weak as she finally sat down side him, her shoulder pressed into his now bare chest.

He caught her glimpsing at his chest and torso, the muscles that rippled under the scars of his betrayal. Without thought she reached out and traced them, she could feel his skin shutter under her touch, his eyes closing and his breath heavy as he tried to hold in his urge.

Sansa's eyes lifted back up to catch his, his hand gently grasping one of her red locks as he interlaced it between his fingers. She could feel her breathing grow heavier, as something inside of her built up. Her cheeks flushed pink as she moved slowly towards Jon, as if he was pulling her to him. He took the hand that still had her wrist and moved her hand back on his chest. He couldn't fight the desire to have her touch him again.

Jon moved his face a little closer, kissing her forehead like he had up on the balcony of Winterfell, when he pulled away he rested his forehead against her. Sansa's free hand reached up snaking around his neck, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind the trail she left. She could feel his heavy breaths on her skin, and she could feel his heart race against the palm of her hand – it mirrored her own.

Jon's hand that was laced in her hair snaked behind the nape of her hair grasping more hair passionately, as he lowered his head until his lips hovered over hers… hesitant. Sansa desperately clashed her own lips against his, tasting his essence and the ale that still lingered.

When she pulled back ready to apologize he had quickly closed to gap, his lips against hers, desperate and passionate, as his tongue found its way into her mouth. His freehand grasping at her waist pulling her closer against him. Sansa felt something inside her she had never felt, something she thought she never would feel again.

Jon could feel the need inside of him, the one he had been feeling for a while, the one he had tried reject but was so tired of doing so. She was now the best part of him, the reason he kept fighting, the one thing that pushed him every day, and the reason he looked forward to waking up. He never could figure out why he felt that way about her, why he couldn't see her as a sister.

Jon was surprised when she quickly clambered into his lap, her legs straddling him, her hands locking around his neck and into his hair. The passion flowed taking away all sense of reason as the one hand not wrapped in her hair around her neck moved around her body. He couldn't deny he had wondered on several occasions what her curvy body felt like.

"Jon," Sansa moaned as his lips fell to her neck, her back arching with desire she didn't know existed.

"Ygritte," the word slipped out, and for a moment he hadn't realized. But Sansa had, her body had gone limp as she pulled away. Her world feeling as if it had just stopped spinning.

" _Ygritte_?" Sansa asked backing away, "oh – oh Gods, what have I done?" Sansa asked looking at Jon whose face had gone white. She felt for a second she took advantage of Jon, who had been drinking.

"I'm – I'm sorry, Sansa," Jon said reaching out trying to clear his head and figure out what was happening. Sansa couldn't control the tears, she wiped them away shaking her head at them, unable to speak. She quickly turned and ran from the room. He tried to yell after her but he just fell back into his bed his hand on his head feeling like an idiot.

Authors note: As I am sure you can see, I am not a perfect writer. This is simply a fanfiction that's played out in my mind. I do not own any of the characters, and I am not a genius writer as GRR Martin. So, if that's what you expect you've come to the wrong story. I am not a perfect writer, I have a job, two kids, 6 horses, and going back to school so I don't have time to proof read. If this bothers you I am sorry, please feel free to move on. Otherwise please enjoy and leave comments about what you liked and what you thought work, and what you think would work better.

I got this wonderful idea from some beautiful videos on youtube I saw portraying these two, I became a Jon and Sansa fan after season 6. So, it will be hard to decided who ends up with who. Though I have an idea of how it will end and with whom. But this will definitely get juicy between both pairs… Sansa Is a woman after all and start to explore what passion is.

Thanks! =D


	2. Chapter 2: Fire-Storm

Authors note: Here is the second chapter, let me know what you all think! I am trying to pace as much as I can but its hard to do haha!

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Fire Storm**

* * *

 ** _Sansa Stark_**

* * *

Sansa was walking around the castle, doing her normal duties as if nothing had happened. Her face was not the kind one she had learned to put on, but it was cold and calculated as if Ramsay once again walked the castle waiting for her around each corner.

She only spoke when spoken to, and the castle staff could see that it was not wise to speak with Lady Sansa unless it was important. Brienne was quick to reach her, confused by her strange attitude, but she did not question her.

Sansa heard that a council meeting was being held, she was used to not being invited into a room of only men who thought they were important, but today she was determined to be in that meeting.

Jon had been waiting outside of the room, his head in his hand as he hesitated to go in. He was caught off guard when Sansa showed up, reaching for the door. He opened his mouth to speak but wasn't sure to say.

"Sansa," was all he could muster, "can we talk."

"I don't have the time," Sansa didn't look at him, her gaze avoiding him at all cost, she refused to be weak in his presence, "I have important business to discuss with the council."

"Of course – "Jon tried to pretend like he wasn't baffled by Sansa's cold demeanor, even if he knew why. He was guilty of a great crime, and it ate away at him. The group was sitting at their usual spots indulging in chatter as they awaited their King's presence.

"Milady," Ser Davos said with confusion. She was not usually presence in these meetings.

"Ser Davos," Sansa greeted with a small curtsy before taking a seat, "I have something important to discuss with you all."

"This is unusual," another voice chimed in but Jon silenced them when he walked in.

"Let her speak," Jon said as firmly as he could as he took his rightful spot at the head of the table. Sansa tried to ignore him.

"As you all know, we have more than one threat, we have the threat North of the wall, and the threat in the South. Queen Cersei, "Sansa heard murmurs and acknowledgement, "I have found us the most untimely but welcome advantage against both."

"Sansa?" Jon asked in confusion, "why didn't you bring this up to me?"

"So, you could take credit for this as much as did for the Vale?" Sansa finally looked at him, and he could see a fire in her eyes. The fire of a queen. The fire of a woman scorned. The fire of someone determined.

"We both know that isn't the case, you are much responsible for our victory as I am. You are as much queen of the North as I am King," Jon tried to keep his voice level, he didn't want to fight in front of the lords and commanders. They needed to remain a united force.

"Queen of the North," the others acknowledged nodding and praising, but she was not listening to them, her eyes were locked on Jon's, for a moment he felt he should fear Sansa. This was the same Sansa who used him as a pawn against Ramsay, the same woman who was willing to let Rickon die to win a battle, the same one who didn't tell him that back up was coming.

"As Queen of the North, I decided I could benefit from my own Queens Guard," Sansa sat back into her chair, letting her confidence guide her.

"Why?" Jon asked suspiciously, "you know I'll protect you…"

"I don't want to need your protection, Jon," Sansa snapped, she shot straight up her palms resting on the table as she looked at him, "I am not a little girl anymore, I can fend for myself. Brienne, will you please bring our guest."

"Milady?" Brienne gave her a look of concern, she too worried about Sansa's new attitude. Sansa did not budge, so Brienne left to get Jaime.

"Sansa, can we talk?" Jon asked quietly as the others talked, waiting for Brienne to return. Jon was caught off guard by the gasps of the men in the room, and a wicked smile crept on Sansa's face as she stared at the table. Something told Jon she got the reaction she wanted.

"Ser Jaime, Head of the Queens guard," Sansa spoke without even looking to Brienne or Jaime.

"King Slayer," Jon hissed between gritted teeth, he stood to his feet, but halted in surprise when Sansa was on her feet in front of the tall blonde knight.

"He is my guest," Sansa hissed back, her eyes going dark with ember flames as if a fire storm took place deep inside of her.

"Are you insane? Do you not know who this is?" Jon growled, his eyes now lit with a fire as he stared at Sansa, sensing a hint of her game, "is this how you aim to punish me?"

"Not at all," their voices so low only the other could hear their words, "on the contrary I meant to tell you last night, but things went the other way. Yes, I know exactly who he is."

"Your grace," Jaime said to Sansa, a smirk crossing his face. His eyes lighting at the sight of his new queen, a fierce queen, he could see he chose well. Jon didn't like the way Jaime looked at Sansa.

"I know quite well who he is, Jon," Sansa was grateful she was tall, she could meet Jon eye to eye without standing on her tippy tows. Her hair pulled back into a braid, a green cloak trimmed with a thick long grey and white fur that reminded her of Lady. Her blue eyes dances with blue flames as she matched Jon's intensity. Her voice now rose to address the room and talk over Jon, "he is no longer the Oath Breaker and King slayer, he is an Oath Keeper. Without him, I would not have been returned safely to Winterfell. He is the head of my Kings Guard along with Brienne of Tarth. They shall share the responsibility. Jaime Lannister brings with him thousands more men to our cause, more than the Vale provided, and more than enough to take down Cersei Lannister."

"His sister and lover," Jon spat turning from her in frustration. Freezing and going pale when he realized what he said. _Just last night Sansa was my sister and lover. Am I as bad as the King Slayer?_ Jon thought trying to push the memory from his head.

"I no longer align myself with the Mad queen, instead of repeating my past mistake with the Mad King, I've come to aid those I see fit," Jaime spoke up, finally meeting Jon's gaze, "if you think having me around is of no benefit you are sorely mistaken…"

"If you touch Sansa…" Jon began to warn Jaime, now nearly nose to nose with the golden-haired Lannister.

"Apologies your grace, but your _sister_ can decide for herself what she wants from me," Jaime smirked in a way that it took every moral bone in Jon's body to not deck the Lannister before him.

"I will never trust you," Jon made clear. Jaime just nodded his hands behind his back.

"Jon enough, let's not pretend his military experience rivals your own," Sansa was not trying to be cruel but honest this time, but she could see it stung Jon. Jon looked at her for a moment, his face blank, and then he turned from her. She tried to control her breathing, she could feel her hand begin to shake as all the confidence that fueled her strength began to waiver.

"I won't pretend like my family hasn't done awful things, I won't pretend like my family is not monsters. But we are if anything, a man of our word, and we always pay our debts. I owe the late Catelyn Stark a debt, one that I paid in half, and I intend to make up for the parts that were not met the way I intended them too," Jaime's eyes now moved to Sansa, as if this was a personal message to her, and she understood it. He was making up for the fact she was not safely returned to Winterfell after all, she was first abused and raped, tortured and tormented, "and furthermore, I want to clear up the debt owed from any pain my family caused the Starks."

"Thank you," Sansa smiled warmly at Jaime for the first time, she could see in his eyes he was a man of his word, that he was not like Cersei or even Ramsay, not even like Little Finger. He was truly devoted to writing the wrongs his family caused. The counsel looked concerned but agreed that he could be of use, "I've taken up much of my Lords' time, I must attire and prepare the Winter feast."

"My queen," Ser Davos smiled at her warmly, she always liked that man, he was kind to her of all the advisors.

Sansa took her leave with Jaime and Brienne not far behind her. She was too far to hear Jon excuse himself, and was quickly on her trail. He requested to speak with Sansa alone, who hesitantly agreed. Sansa followed Jon outside into the fresh white winter snow. Sansa's red hair and long green cloak made her stand out in the endless white bleakness of Winterfell, Jon could feel himself getting caught and burnt in her endless fire.

"I need to apologize," Jon said taking her hand in his, for a second she let him hold her hand in his, but decided to pull her hand from his.

"It is I who owes an apology," Sansa sighed turning her back on Jon so he couldn't see the pain in her eyes, "I am sorry…"

"Sansa, please," Jon grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, she would not look him in the eyes, her head drooping to the side as she stared at the ground. He gripped her chin lifting her face so he could see her eyes, "you owe no apology."

"Jon, what is the point in this?" Sansa asked him, "you are in love with her, and you always will be. I worried I reminded you of her, that my presence was painful. I was right, and I took advantage of you because of it."

"What happened last night?" Jon asked, catching her off guard. Unable to speak even when her mouth opened to answer, "I KNOW what happened, but why did it happen?"

"Jon, I…" she didn't know how to say it, how to tell him her dark and deep thoughts.

"What we feel for each other is wrong, Sansa, we are brother and sister," Jon said reaching to touch her face again.

"I know," her voice broke, her eyes now searching his for any hint that he felt for her the way she felt. She may have been standing there but she felt she was on the ground dying, she bit her lip holding the tears back, hoping if she didn't cry she wouldn't feel anything anymore.

"I love you, Sansa, I don't know what it means, but it can only ever mean one thing," he said kissing her forehead again, "that you are my family."

"I am sorry," she said again – she hated the words. She hated apologizing, but it was all she knew to do.

"I'm sorry," he said resting his lips on her forehead, his eyes squeezed tight, "I don't want to fight anymore."

"I know," she said grasping his wrist, as his hand clung to her neck, reminding her of the night before, the strange feelings she felt in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps she would never feel or know the feeling of passion like her father and mother had. She was hearing what Jon was now saying to her but she just couldn't make a sound.

"Do you forgive me?" Jon breathed into her hair, he couldn't deny she reminded him so much of Ygritte, but at the same time she was so different from her. Sansa bit her lip as a tear fell from eye, Jon tried to pretend like he didn't feel it hit his wrist, "I need you."

"Jon," she said feeling her breathing grow heavy. It was too late, "I can't."

"Sansa?" he asked as she pulled away from him, she looked at him for a second before her eyes dropped and she walked away. It was too late now. The damage was done. She needed him in a way she shouldn't. She needed to create some space and distance. He was putting out her fire without even meaning too. She was going to refuse to let anything else take away her strength, so she was going to be independent and not need Jon anymore. Her and her heart, they would make it through. She knew she had to become Stone Cold, she had to become a fighter not just a survivor.

 ** _Jaime Lannister_**

* * *

 _"Jon," she moaned, he could see through the cracked open door as she straddled the King of the North. Her fire red hair engulfing him, and how could the King of the North reject her, even if he was his own sister. He felt an envy build inside of him as he watched their passion flow unbridled._

 _He could sense the love between them, a pent-up love that finally was being released. Something similar to when he and Cersei gave into their own desire. But Sansa was no Cersei, she had not known the true touch of a man, and so her passion was pure and Sansa was being awoken in a way any man should envy as she let herself be over taken by the Bastard King before her. She was lit a fire like a goddess, the kind he found himself secretly wanting to worship._

 _Then he heard it, the name of another woman's name on his lips, and the very thing that killed the spark in the firey red headed stark. He knew then he should turn and leave, closing the door more so that no one else discovered what he had happened upon._

Jaime was taken back by Sansa's sudden presence, taking him from the memory of the previous night that was burnt into his mind. She stood before him, looking regal and solid as stone. Cersei wore her emotions on her sleeves always, it was usually anger or loathing or disgust. But Sansa Stark stood before him looking unshaken, unbroken by the things he heard happen to her. No hate, no anger, no disgust, no repulse at his cripple-ness. For a moment, she made him feel like a whole man again with the few simple words she spoke, "I need you."

"Anything you desire, my queen," Jaime stood from the ground dropping the sword he was trying to sharpen with his one good hand and his golden hand.

"I don't want to need saving, ever again," Sansa spoke the words and he knew what she desired. She did not desire to be a damsel in distress any longer. A weak pawn in a man's game, but to be the strong most important piece on the board – the queen. He felt quite prideful that it was he she came to, and he could see the beginning of a beautiful friendship begin.

They started with a sword, as he showed her how to defend herself, he could see this would be a challenge as she was still delicate and unstructured to the weight. He then showed her how to attack, but only enough to survive. He figured a woman of her structure was better off with a bow and arrow, so he helped her work on her posture and form. Sansa found a strange exhilaration each time she loosened an arrow at her target. This she could do well at, as though it required strength, it gave her more time to calculate and plan. Jaime found himself trying to talk himself out of being aroused each time he stood behind her, their bodies pressed close as he adjusted her until she picked it up on her own.

"You're a natural," Jaime said as he watched Sansa getting closer to the target each time.

"I bet you say this to all the ladies," Sansa teased, causing Jaime to smile and look down at the ground, he didn't think he could feel any kind of spark of joy again after Cersei. He almost began to feel like a new person, the person he always wanted to be, but held back by his father and sister… occasionally his younger brother.

"Not quite," he smiled as she let loose another arrow this time smiling a wide Catelyn like smile when she hit the bulls eye.

"And why not Ser Jaime Lannister the Mighty Lion?" Sansa teased looking over to Jaime breathlessly as she swung her hand up and down trying to rid herself of the pain drawing the string had caused after a while.

"None of them were like you," Jaime smiled back before getting up and walking over to her, she could hear a hint of Tyrion in his voice, he wrapped his arm with the golden hand through hers so he could wrap the hand that was turning red and starting to bleed a little, "you are stronger than any woman I've ever met."

"Even Cersei?" Sansa's smile faded, but her chest still heaved deeply. He could hear the pain in her voice.

"Especially Cersei, she was weak, she is weak," Jaime didn't look at her as he finished wrapping her hand, but he did not release her hand, "I am truly sorry for the horrors you face in Kings landing, even more so for the parts I played in it."

"You never caused me any harm," Sansa said confused, as she watched him, trying to ignore the flutters in her stomach caused by the way he looked at her.

"I wasn't a man, not a real one, I should have protected you from them," Jaime's voice was filled with sorrow and regret, "I should have been more like Tyrion."

"Joffrey and Cersei were awful to me, they tormented me, and they used me," Sansa spoke of it, trying to not lose herself in the memory, "but none of it was as bad as what Ramsay did to me. So, don't be sorry."

"I could have prevented that as well, I just wanted her to change so badly, I wanted her to love me enough to do so," he was now lost in his own thoughts.

"The past is the past, what matters now is what you can do for me," Sansa said sighed turning away from him, "Gods, I need a drink now."

"I could use one myself," Jaime stared at his hand, missing what was once there.

"Thank you," Sansa said sincerely turning back to him.

"For?" Jaime asked looking up from his hand to catch her gaze.

"For this," she lifted her wrapped hand, she then pointed to the target full of arrows, "and for that. Jon would never _LET_ me, it's not lady like. He wants so badly to protect me."

"Awe yes, the mighty wolf king," Jaime teased, "you deserve better."

"What?" Sansa's face turned whiter if possible, a flush to her cheeks. Jaime just smiled.

"Same time tomorrow night?" he suggested towards the bow and arrows, "the more you do so the more your hand will callous over."

"A lady shouldn't have calloused hands I suppose," Sansa said almost worried.

"A lady, no, but a queen… a queen should," Jaime winked at her making her smile.

"I suppose I should retire to me room, I fear we missed dinner with all this practice," Sansa could hear her stomach growling.

"I will have something sent to your room, my queen," Jaime bowed watching her smile at him. He hoped they were true, he hoped she knew he was truly on her side.

 ** _Jon Snow_**

* * *

He was disturbed by the fact Sansa had missed dinner, she never missed dinner. More importantly she never missed an after-dinner lemon cake with him in his study. It was late now, later than normal, and she had not retired to her room.

He could feel he truly ruined things between them. He had let his feelings and desires take over, and then called her by another woman's name. If Sansa hated him, he would understand. He hoped she didn't though, because Jon relied on her in a way he never relied on anyone.

Jon stood at the end of her hall wondering if he should wait in her room, or leave her be. When he finally decided to turn back he heard Sansa's laugh echo slightly down the hall. The light of her candle, and someone else's, dancing across the stone wall as it grew closer to her door.

"Good night my queen," Jaime smiled at Sansa, closing the gap between him and her until they were almost touching. His gold armor drawing in the light of their candles. Jon didn't like the smile on Sansa's face, the one reserved for only him, when they were away from prying eyes. Jon could feel his blood boil, he didn't know what the feeling was inside of him, the one that felt like anger.

"Please, call me Sansa," she said so casually, how could she trust the King Slayer so easily? Was he wooing her? Was he trying to seduce her so he could bring back her head to Cersei? Jon's mind ran wild with ideas.

"Sansa," Jaime said his smile slowly dying, he took the hand he had wrapped for her and kissed it gently, "Sleep well. Shall I stand guard outside?"

"That's quite alright, Brienne is usually somewhere in the shadows of my room making sure I don't stop breathing in my sleep," Sansa joked, "I've never known devotion like hers."

"Brienne is probably one of the only people in this world I can call a friend," Jaime chuckled softly, "the only one whose loyalty could never be bought or bartered."

"Indeed," Sansa smiled awkwardly, "well goodnight."

"Until tomorrow," he returned her smile before watching her walk into her room.

Jon walked to where they stood, wondering if he should walk in there, if he should question her. But after what had happened, she really owed him no explanation. Jon gently rested his head against her door, feeling like he was dying on the inside. Why? Why couldn't he see her as sister? When and how did his feelings change? Had he hurt her so badly he pushed her into the Lion's den? He had to fix this fast before something bad became of it.


	3. Chapter 3: The Feast

**Chapter 3: The** _ **Feast**_

* * *

 _ **Sansa Stark**_

* * *

Sansa sat in front of her mirror as her handmaiden fashioned a simple yet elegant hair-do filled with many little braids tied in elegant knots over the rest of her free-flowing hair. Sansa watched herself in the mirror as she heard the music begin to play down in the main hall.

Her suite was filled with dresses she had tried on until she had found the perfect dress of black, gold, and silver. They had received word that the dragon queen had requested a meeting at Dragonstone with Jon, and so they were to celebrate the potential alliance with a powerful queen.

Sansa began to worry if this alliance met a marriage between Jon and the Dragon queen, as she wasn't sure she could watch Jon marry another. The idea of it tore at her heart like dragon claws to flesh. Sansa shuttered, which resulted in her hand maiden offering to stoke the fire and close the windows.

All day Sansa had spent in the castle setting up for this feast, their great winter feast where the Lords and Ladies of the North would attend. They needed to keep every alliance, they needed this festival to go well. So, Sansa slaved away to ordering and preparing every possible Northern favorite possible.

When she found time, she practiced with Jaime Lannister in the training yard, this time accompanied by an unhappy Brienne. Brienne agreed it was a good idea, but wishes Sansa had gone to her instead. Every detail of the day was met with great attention from the flowers, to the banners hung above which tables, the music and the musicians, the foods.

Sansa found herself having flash backs of being a young lady in Winterfell watching her mother lord over all these details, she could never understand why it was so important. Now that she was older she could see clearly the importance of such a feast, and the tasks involved.

Sansa fluffed her dress as she twirled and looked at it, trying to pretend like she could breathe despite how tight she had her hand maiden tighten it. It reminded her of a dress she wore in The Vale, but much more beautiful. The dress was made of long black silk that dragged behind her, around the waist up to the chest was made of a hard-shiny leather that pushed her breast up to the point she worried they would spill out, and brought her waist in to the point she thought she would faint.

The shoulders drooped down exposing her shoulders, and the arms were long and flowing but open. Gold and silver embroidery danced along the bottom and made its way up and down the sleeves leaving patterns of dire wolves. She wore a thick gold necklace that covered 1/3rd her neck, and matching gold wrist bands. She looked something fierce, and even had herself fooled for a moment. Sansa inhaled deep, she was mesmerized by her dress. She looked the part of a queen.

Her hand maiden then place atop her head a beautiful crown, it was a white gold band of entwined vines, golden strands drooping with small jewels across her forehead. Then she placed a black cloak with white fur trim over her queen tying the front so the cloak would stay on. The cloak itself dragged long, a shiny material, with white and gray wolves in the center, fur trimmed on the bottom as well. She was a Stark Wolf, and it was time she shed the Bolton filth from her persona.

She wanted the Northerner's to remember now and always, Sansa Stark was the Daughter of the Great Eddard and Catelyn Stark, the last remaining wolf in Winterfell other than Jon. She was and forever would be a Wolf of Winterfell. She was taking back her name, and what it meant.

Sansa was followed by her handmaiden and another guard as she listened to the sound of their armor clinking down the halls beside her. Sansa took a deep breath, feeling her nerves take control of her as she faced the door to the great hall.

A servant opened the door introducing Queen Sansa of The North. Sansa looked around the room as all sound died, all eyes were on her. Mouths were dropped, and whispers began to echo. Jon stood up, his large wolf pelt swaying with his dark curls as he moved to receive her. She smiled as he laid his hand out to escort her.

"You look breath taking," Jon smiled at her, as he took her in, the woman she had become and the innocent girl gone, "if your object was to steal the breaths of the men in this hall you've accomplished such a feat."

"You're to kind," Sansa blushed as he led her to her seat. Sansa was met by many greetings from those around her. She was most excited to see Lady Lyanna the Little Bear.

Sansa spotted Jaime across the way in a corner, his gaze was on her, but not in the way a guard should watch their ward. Her smile faded as her eyes lingered on his, her chest heaving nervously. He flashed her a weak smile and nod before he turned to do something else out of view. She found herself surprised to be looking around the room to spot him.

Sansa then looked to see Jon watching her, he had noticed the exchange between them, and Sansa couldn't control the color rush to her cheeks so she quickly engaged in another topic.

 _ **Jaime Lannister**_

* * *

 _She lights the room up in a way no queen ever has. How can I not watch her, want to protect her, to touch her and see if she is real? Cersei was always known as the beautiful queen, she was always perfection… but Sansa has cast a shadow so bright that not even Cersei could ever surpass it._

 _She is young and beautiful, she deserves a young prince on a white stallion, the happy ending in every fairy tale. Yet she has only ever met with the worst horror stories, and yet she shines so damn bright. The Lords all undress her with their eyes, and I feel angry, I feel possessive. I want to protect her. I want to be with her. I want to touch her. I want to stay away from her. So many feelings._

 _I can see now in my head the beautiful little girl abused and tormented by loss caused by my family, forced to marry my brother, and yet even though he is better than I he did not deserve her. She is not that little girl in Kings landing. She is something so much more. She is the future. I want to protect and nurture her. I want to redeem myself through her. She is my redemption._

 _Jon can fool no one, he sees what I see, and he desires her as much so. He wants nothing more than to make her his, even though she is his sister. I cannot judge, for I am guilty of similar sins. Eddard Stark would still rather her with Jon Snow his bastard son, then the likes of me… the King Slayer, the Oath Breaker, the man without honor._

Jaime's thoughts carry heavily on his face as he observes his queen for the night. Brienne was right, he had known no women like Sansa Stark. She was fierce and Bold, instead of cowering from the things that haunt her still, she faces them with bravery. If she is scared, she does well to hide it. These thoughts keep plaguing Jaime's thoughts.

Sansa was the light of the party, she reminded the North of what had been taken from them when Ned was taken and killed. She reminded them of the strength the Stark name carried. Jon didn't need to do any work, as Sansa carried the weight for both.

Jaime watched as Sansa spun and dance with all who asked her, she turned no one away. Each twirl, each curtsy, every dance she entertained was graceful.

All her bruises and beatings had faded, all her abuse and trauma held so deep within all you could see was her glow. Sansa mesmerized Jaime, her fire hair turning into flames as she spun. Her smile lighting something within him he thought Cersei had extinguished.

Jaime circled the room, watching his queen. Taking pleasure in the moments that their eyes would connect. He wanted to shed his suit and join her on the dance floor, show all the bumbling idiots trying to impress her how to truly dance with a lady of her caliber. Jaime's eyes were not the only one glued to the wolf queen that night, and Jaime knew it, all the men watched in desire at the grown wolf queen, but none as much as Jon's eyes.

 _ **Jon Snow**_

* * *

Jon finally mustered up the courage to interject Sansa who was dancing with one of the young Lords, one of many who had sent a request for Sansa's hand in marriage, one of all that was rejected by Jon before Sansa even knew of it.

Even before Jon knew how he felt about Sansa, he refused to arrange any marriage, Sansa would choose for herself who she married if she ever wanted to marry. Jon made his way through the dancing couples, dancing happily as if the battle of the bastards had never happened, men had not died, and they were not about to go to war once more.

Sansa's smile died when Jon took her hand, his other hand catching her waist. He did not smile either. Both knowing the others pain, knowing they could never act on their own feelings because they were siblings.

Sansa met each one of Jon's steps, surprised he even knew how to dance. If he was ever at any parties growing up, he never danced. Sansa began to smile as he twirled her and dipped her, surprising her with his swiftness. She could feel the heat in her cheeks again, and an insatiable desire in the pit of her stomach.

Jon looked so handsome and regal in his usual dark attire, he had shed his large wolf cloak. They looked almost to match in color, for moments the people of Winterfell got glimpses of Ned and Catelyn reborn. They fit so naturally, like a completed puzzle. The room seemed to be silent and everyone disappeared, despite the loud music, the laughter, the sound of goblets clinking, and plates being knocked over.

Sansa and Jon were in their own world. The one where it was just them, and they could as they pleased and have what they wanted. She was a siren to Jon, a temptress, the best thing to ever happen to him and the worst thing. She would be his down fall, and he still couldn't reject her.

Sansa felt chills run through her every time Jon's hand made contact to her waist again, both reliving the night in his room, he had been drunk and both full of desire. Her lips on his and her hands tangled in his curls. His hands running over her thighs, and the weight of her body on his.

Sansa took a step back her smile fading, her breath still quick as she watched Jon. She just shook her head no as she backed away. It was too much, a reminder of what she couldn't have. Jon stood there, feeling empty as he watched her back away and disappear into the crowd. He couldn't help it, but even standing in a crowd of people he never felt more alone.

 _To be King and still not have the one thing you want, what irony. I don't think she has ever looked more like a queen, more beautiful. I think I love her, not in the way I should love my sister. What is wrong with me? What madness? I do not deserve her._

 _ **Sansa Stark**_

* * *

Once finally out of the hall tears finally escape her eyes. She was not able to be as strong as she wanted to be. _A stupid girl with stupid dreams who never learns._ Sansa let out a small sob as she covered her mouth, she swore she would not cry again, but how could she not. She was falling in love with her own brother.

 _Had Ramsay fucked me up so much? What was it Shae said, trust no one, it's safer that way? I know I can trust Jon, but I should trust no one. I need to become hard and cold, cold as ice, cold as my enemies._

Sansa leaned the back of her head against her door as she closed it. Her hands covering her face as if to cover her shame.

 _I am stronger than this. I have felt worst then this. I owe nothing to anyone. I am a queen. I am THE queen._

Sansa tried to control her breathing and her sobs, she hated the way this affected her. She learned how to be a master manipulator from Little Fingers, but she seemed to forget the goal at hand. She wanted one thing, and one thing only. Simply to be the master of her own fate.

Sansa was startled from her thoughts by a knock at the door. She paused a moment, trying to wipe her tears and gather herself to be the queen she was born to be. She opened it expecting Jon, expecting to send him away but was surprised to see Jaime there holding something.

"I figured you looked as if you could use a stiff drink," Jaime watched her intently, his eyes focused.

"I suppose I could," Sansa said unsure, unaware he could see from her red eyes she had been crying. She slowly opened the door, unsure if this was the wise decision. A queen should not be seen having a soldier enter her room unacquainted.

"A queen deserves to smile and have a good time," Jaime entered her room with a larger pitcher of wine. It was the sweet kind, the kind he knew that Sansa liked. She took a cup and chugged it heavily, "What a night?"

"It most certainly was," Sansa chuckled softly after sipping at her wine. She savored the taste, enjoying its sweetness and coldness on her tongue. Jaime watched her as he took a sip from his own cup.

"Well milady, I shall take my leave," Jaime said standing up.

"Wait," Sansa said quickly, looking up at the handsome golden haired Kings Guard before her. The one she admired with her friends, while pretending it was Joffrey she found handsome. All the girls swooned over Jaime Lannister the day he rode into Kings Landing with the Queen and King. Jaime stopped, to look down at the red headed queen before him, "it's Sansa."

"Of course, Sansa," he smirked a Jaime only kind of smirk. She couldn't deny he was the kind of dreamy knight she had always dreamed of, before the dream of being a queen became an option.

"I could use… some company – "Sansa added in, her cup in front of her mouth so it came as a sort of mumble.

"Well then, let me oblige my queen," Jaime joked as he sat down on the floor beside her.

"Can I ask you a question?" Sansa said several minutes later, breaking their silence as she downed several cups of wine.

"Anything," Jaime encouraged.

"And you will speak truth yes?" Sansa questioned with a quizzical eye. Jaime smiled and nodded as he watched her cheeks become flushed with wine fever. He was surprised when she put her cup down and scooted closer to him, grabbing the fake golden hand accidentally pulling it off. Jaime tried to quickly hide his hand in shame and embarrassment but Sansa was strangely quicker than he was, her hand on the stub as she observed it. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his.

"Of course," Jaime responded mesmerized in the way she did not shy away from his deformity, the way Cersei had rejected him for it – disgusted by it and him.

"Did it hurt?" Sansa asked looking from his eyes to the wound, her fingers stroking over the bandaged he had covering it to keep the fake hand from rubbing the still raw nerves.

"Horribly, but not as much as the emotional scars," Jaime said watching her observe his hand. He then saw her eyes meet his again, and they were full of pain.

"I can understand that," she said connecting with him on a level Cersei never could, "Every scar and wound healed but the pride and humanity he beat and raped from me never healed right."

"Why do you say that?" his eyes focused on hers, knowing the alcohol now brought them to the point that only truths could be spoken.

"He made me a monster, my thoughts, they are dark," Sansa said with a broken voice.

"Is it because you're in love with your brother, Jon?" Jaime asked bluntly taking Sansa by surprise. She swallowed nervously, watching him, "I am not one to judge. Believe me."

"Did you truly love her?" Sansa asked, curiosity overcoming her sense of propriety.

"I did, but she did not love me back. She loved the version of me that reminded her of herself," Jaime admitted out loud, "so we must both be monsters."

"You are not a monster," Sansa said sitting up and taking another drink of her wine, holding the cup out so he could refill it, "thank you, Jaime."

"You are welcome, Sansa," Jaime smirked at the way she said his name, he took a strange delight in it.

"She can be convincing, I know all too well," Sansa said staring at the fire.

"You are not a monster either," Jaime said placing a hand on her shoulder, "the heart wants what it wants."

"I want to forget," Sansa said looking away from the fire and into his eyes, "I don't want to suffer anymore. To want what I can't have. To want what I shouldn't want."

"I understand the feelings," his voice was soft and gentle. She turned her back to him.

"I can't breathe, please relieve me," she asked pulling her hair over her shoulder. Jaime hesitated, only having one hand, but with a shaking hand he grasped at the laces of her dress.

Finally, the outer shell of her dress came springing off, and she let out a huge gasp throwing the piece across the room. The silk dress now falling loose the shoulders drooping down expose most her back. Jaime felt something boil inside of him when he saw the scars on her back, the reminders of Ramsay's visit. Instinctually he reached out and traced one causing her to shudder, her arms still wrapped around herself holding the dress into place.

"I'm sorry," he said pulling his hand away.

"No," she said quickly, "don't stop…"

"It doesn't hurt?" his voice was filled with sadness, an understanding of what his failure to protect Sansa Stark cost her.

"He can't hurt me anymore," she said with a shaky voice.

"I'll never let another hurt you, that's my pledge as your Queen's Guard" Jaime didn't realize what he said until he said, a strange sense of protection filling him. Not because of the way he was feeling for her, but for the promise he made to her mother, "I've never meant you any harm…"

"I know," she said softly, now turning to face him. He could see the pain of reliving the past on her face, her fiery eyes now ice blue with memories. He reached up touching her face, his rough hand feeling the silky smoothness of her skin. She closed her eyes and leaned into it.

"He ruined me," she said softly, "I don't know how to be a woman."

"Sansa Stark, Queen of the North, no woman could ever compare to you," Jaime said fiercely gazing into her eyes, sparking something inside of her that brought back the ember of her dampened flame.

Without thinking she leaned forward tasting his lips, both tasting of wine. He knew that deep down it was Jon she desired but he was selfish, he just wanted her if she would give herself to him. He wanted to feel wanted, to replace the rejection Cersei shoved upon him. His hand wrapped around her neck, her soft red curls brushed against the back of his hand as she met his kisses. He pulled away feeling guilty.

"No, please, don't stop," she said looking deep into his eyes. He could see the desperation in her piercing blue eyes, begging him for something he wanted to desperately give her.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, needing to know he wasn't forcing her to do anything she didn't want to do.

She let loose her hands from her dress, the black silk dress lipping off her shoulders exposing her naked breast. Jaime cursed in his head, his arousal now obvious, his desire unhidden, her arms wrapping around his neck feeling the coldness of his golden breast plate hardening her rosy nipples even more than before.

Jaime was quick to try and undo his armor with his one hand, he then felt Sansa's hands finding his, helping him remove the harsh armor and placing it aside. His hand grasping at her hair as she placed herself over him, finding a strange sense of excitement in being in control.

He knew that was what she needed, Ramsay had taken all the control from her and turned sex into a nightmare. Her having control meant it was on her terms, and she would be able to let go a little. She removed the tunic from him revealing his chest, just as strong and beautiful as Jon's bust missing the scars he had. She hated that even in this moment, her thoughts would go to Jon.

She gasped as his lips nipped at her neck making their way to her chest. She felt fear and panic afraid he would be harsh and rough, biting and taring like a dog… like Ramsay. But was surprised by his gentleness, by the way he licked and nibbled tenderly at her breast. She could feel a wetness between her legs, and worried it might be her monthly flower.

Sansa moaned, her arms feeling his chest, as his arousal pushed throbbing against her womanhood. She wondered if she was ready for this, but she knew she needed to get it over with, to know that there was more to it than just breeding. Sansa gasped as his arm hooked around her waist, flipping her over. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt, the fact that deep down he was just trying to lick his own wounds, Sansa was beautiful and damaged, and he felt he was taking advantage of her from his own disturbed desires.

"Sansa, perhaps we should wait," he stilled, his body still above hers, his golden hair slightly falling in his face as he looked down at her.

"I am the queen," Sansa said with a force he wasn't expecting, "will you not obey me?"

"Of course," Jaime couldn't help but see a spark of Cersei in Sansa, the kind he recognized before Cersei had become the monster she was, "as you wish…"

He gently left kisses along the side of her face trailing down her neck to her breast. Sansa gasped finding a strange comfort in the feeling of his touch and his lips on her skin. Her body responding almost as if reaching back for him, it was a primal and foreign feeling to her. A need she hadn't known she could have.

Sansa gasped softly, surprise as Jaime's hand gently stroked down her body until he reached between her legs, gently stroking between the folds. The warm sleek wetness of her womanhood evident that she was desiring him at that moment as much as he desired her, the sensation over whelming him.

His fingers wickedly teasing her as she squirmed and moaned beneath him, her fingers digging into his back and the back of his neck. His eyes caught Sansa's, a silent plea for him to not stop as she bit her lip. Jaime couldn't deny he found satisfaction in causing such a reaction from a woman such as Sansa Stark.

His fingers circled around playfully increasing in speed around her clit her hips angling upwards begging for more and finally she arched her back as a feeling she never felt before took hold of her body, taking her control from her. Sansa panted, her breathing uneven and quickened, she looked at Jaime, mesmerized by what he had just brought onto her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lowered himself on her, tasting her lips again. He couldn't deny that a huge part of him wanted to rub it in Cersei's face, all the lovers she took behind his back, and now he laid with the one woman who ever truly rivaled her, the one person whose head she wanted most. This brought him even greater pleasure then anything, which caused more guilt that he tried to push away.

Jaime's eyes closed in ecstasy as he slid his throwing member into her, feeling how drenched in desire and pleasure she was. He couldn't deny he missed being with a woman this way, to have someone want him. The sounds of her moans goading him to thrust deeper as he grasped at her hips, filling her as deeply as he could.

"Jaime," Sansa moaned her nails raking down his back, his arm hooking under one of her leg lifting it up as he got deeper. Her gasps and noises of pleasure echoing and causing him to lose himself quickly coming undone inside of her. He collapsed on her, his naked sweaty flesh against hers, his head laid upon her breast. He enjoyed the sound of her heart racing against his hear, her ragged breathing causing her chest to lift and lower sporadically.

"Sansa Stark," Jaime teased as he finally rolled off, "that was unexpected."

"I'm not the little girl you met in Kingslanding," Sansa said as she felt his arm snake under her head pulling him close. She now had a chance to fully observe him, the rippling muscles on his abdomen and his strong chest. He was definitely a beautiful specimen.

"You most certainly are not," he chuckled trying to catch his own breath as he looked over to the fiery red head observing him. He took his hand, ignoring the fact the other one was exposed, and ran it down over her body giving her the chills. He took in her porcelain perfection. She was curvy and a woman full grown. Sansa laughed softly at the ticklish feeling of his finger over her abdomen. Against her better judgement, she moved closer laying her head on her chest, even though she didn't want this to be anything more than physical exploration.

"Thank you," she said softly looking up to him. He looked down at her, his face full of questions.

"What for?" he asked trying to hold back any sarcastic remarks he wanted to make.

"I've never experienced…" she couldn't finish what she was saying, but he knew what she meant. Ramsay raped her, tortured her, he never brought her pleasure, he was selfish. Jaime just kissed the top of her head and wrapped both arms around her as he sat deep in thought, trying to not think of or compare anything to his twin.

* * *

Authors note: the title was supposed to be a double meaning. One for the feast festival and the other for well what happened in her room…


	4. Chapter 4: No Guilt - For Now

Authors note:

Thank you to those reading and following, this means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter its definitely a lot more Jonsa based. Which will give juicy reasons for guilt later on as Sansa finds herself torn between two. Please review I love reading what people have to say =D

 **Sansa Stark**

Sansa paced in her room, images from the night before fluttering in her mind, a wicked feeling of both excitement and self-loathing filled the pit of her stomach. She loved Jon, even if she would never admit it out loud, would Jon feel betrayed? Would he care? Would he hate her and send her away?

Jamie had snuck out while she was fast asleep, she had never slept in a man's arms like that. It had made her feel safe and protected in a way no amount of surrounding guards could. _But Jamie Lannister? Truly? He is much older then I, older then Jon. What in the name of the Gods was I thinking? But the way he made me feel, I want it again, that tingling fiery feeling that rippled through my body._

Sansa smiled, her hand covering her mouth, trying to hold back laughter – both of amusement and embarrassment. A knock at the door caught her attention, one of her maids had come to ready her for the day. There was much excitement as news was brought to them that The Dragon Queen who had arrived in Dragonstone had finally returned message to Jon's letter.

Sansa was both afraid of what this meant, she had heard rumors of the dragon queen's beauty, and she felt guilty for not wanting her half-brother to fall for the white-haired queen she had heard rumors of. How could she, a red headed northerner, his half-sister, compare to a queen young and supposedly beautiful as Targaryen's were known to be, with three dragons… A woman who could literally walk through fire? Sansa knew how this would play out, the same way it did in her fairy tales she so loved as a girl, the handsome King of the North rides out and meets a beautiful queen – they fall in love.

Sansa remembered her mother telling her it wasn't becoming of a woman to be jealous, but she was indeed so. Even more so, she had just laid with another man, while thinking of her half-brother and now worrying he will love another. Sansa quickly finished brushing her dress into place and fixing her hair before she left her suit, ready to sit beside Jon in the court room as they discuss the letter received.

Sansa entered the hall seeing everyone's eyes on her, but it was a pair of certain eyes hidden behind a small wisp of golden hair she found first, he watched her intensely, dancing with the carnal knowledge of her they possessed – A deep blush covered her cheeks as she looked away. Jon had been deep in conversation with Davos, when finally, he caught sight of her, his face somber and full of deep thought, but his eyes brightened at the sight of her.

"Sansa," he greeted, a small smile at the edge of his mouth, before looking back to those who previously had his attention. The noise in the room was loud and buzzing with life, Jon sat upright and watched everyone for a moment before placing his hand in the air, asking silently for silence. The room came almost rapidly to a stop, only the sound of shuffling and heavy breathing taking place of the chatter, "we have come here to discuss traveling to Dragonstone, and the letter received from the Dragon Queen…"

"You mean the Targaryen Conqueror?" one of the men asked unimpressed, "We will never bow to a Targaryen again…"

"You did not let me finish," Jon said with venom in his tone, "we need the Dragonglass that is beneath Dragonstone, and we must go there to collect it or all hopes are lost. I plan to come to an understanding with the Targaryen dragon queen, she may keep the South and we the North in accord to her helping us with the White Walkers."

"What does the letter say?" another voice hidden in the crowd asked curiously.

"It did ask that we bend the knee and serve, but I feel it is wise to meet with her to discuss a new outcome," Jon looked to Davos for moral support, his old friend nodding his head in encouragement.

"What if she will not accept?" Sansa couldn't stop herself before the words came out, reminding them of a quarrel they had not long ago, when she had questioned his decision to let the Karstark's and the Umber's keep their home despite their father's treason.

"Then that is something we will deal with when the time comes," his demeanor was cold and Sansa could feel Jon stiffen at her comment, almost as if she didn't believe he could achieve it, but that was not what she meant by it.

"Jon, you should write her this proposal first, or send someone else to do it, you are needed here," Sansa said swiftly, looking up at him, but he would not meet her eye.

"I will send no other to do my job," Jon's voice was strong and hard.

"She has dragon's, she could burn you and your lot within seconds, you are a King now, and a King has a duty to his people – "

"I will lead my men, and that is final," Jon interrupted.

"And what of Cersei to the South?" Sansa asked, a little more heatedly then intended.

"What of her?" Jon now looked down at Sansa, not amused by her questioning him in front of the others, whose silence spoke louder than words as they watched the siblings. Sansa froze, he was often annoyed with her, but for some reason he seemed angrier then normal – did he know? Did he somehow find out about her and the King Slayer? Of had she crossed some sort of line he had drawn? She hated that the others could question him, but if she did so then she was undermining him. She was not Catelyn Stark, she was not some silent girl who did as she was told. She had been groomed and trained by the wisest and deadliest minds in all the seven Kingdome's, and though she thought with her head and not her heart, unlike Jon, she knew that he would benefit from the knowledge she paid dearly for.

"I can guarantee you - your highness – that my sister has not sat idly by this time. She sent you her demands weeks ago and you did not respond. She will have sent those skilled to outmaneuver your winter to remove her threat –"murmurs could be heard around the room as they whispered to each other, the word Kingslayer and traitor heard, but Jamie seemed to be unbothered by it, as if he had built armor against it long ago, " - you and Sansa – Sansa more than anything. She has desired your sisters pretty little head from the moment she saw it and more so when she thought her the mastermind in her first born's death. Before I left she had agreed to marry Ueron Greyjoy whose fleet was mighty impressive. She sunk to her lowest…"

"So that is why you grace us with your presence? Your lover replaced you and now you plan to show her how wrong she is?" Jon's voice was full of amusement and taunting. As if he were belittling a child for crying over their lost toy. Sansa found herself unsatisfied with Jon's behavior, as if he was comparing 'swords' with Jamie.

"I care not for whom Cersei lays with, but I do care about the madness that has taken over her, the madness I perhaps never saw," Jamie said the last almost as to himself.

"I suppose your love blindsided you then?" Jon leaned forward placing the palms of his hands on the table.

"I am sure you yourself my grace has been blindsided by such," Jamie said what few had guessed at, but it seemed to turn Jon pale, an accusation like that could cost him much. Sansa too shot a glance at Jamie that told him he was about to cross a line, "in the end, my concern is with the safety of the lovely Sansa Stark. Her head is to pretty to sit upon a spike for my sister's enjoyment, I would not think it wise to ignore the threat the South brings, don't think Winter will keep Euron and his thugs out."

"Are you accusing me of not valuing my sister's safety?" Jon asked, his face slightly red.

"Clearly not as much as I do," Jamie said the second thing that came to his mind, the first he knew Sansa wouldn't approve of, so he kept it to himself. Jon did not finish the meeting nor look at Sansa before leaving the counsel, he didn't even bother to dismiss the meeting, he was too enraged to do so. Sansa's eyes wondered from him to Jamie whose eyes glinted mischievously at her.

Sansa had left to find Jon when Jamie quickly confronted her. She quickly looked around before grabbing his arm and pulling him into a guest quarter. The door shut behind her quickly she was caught off guard when his body was against hers, pushing her back against the door, his lips crashing into hers. For a moment she gave in, savoring the warmth of his breath as his mouth moved from hers to her neck. Quickly she placed her hands on his chest, pushing him gently off as she rejected his advances.

"I can't – "she said softly, his eyes looking into hers for answers, "last night…"

"Was amazing," Jamie smiled a devilish smile teasing her and tempting her.

"I can't, Jamie, I am sorry. We can't do this, not again," Sansa said trying to think with her head, as she usually did.

"Is it because of your brother?" Jamie asked almost jealously.

"It's not because of Jon," she lied, it was completely because of Jon, "it wouldn't be right. I am the lady of house Stark, and…"

"He will marry her, you know," Jamie said looking her in the eyes, "that is why you fear him leaving, not that she will deny his request, but that he will fall for her beauty, for a beauty he can have in public without fear or risk of losing his title."

"It's not that," she lied again, he could hear the tremble in her voice. He knew exactly what she feared, "I am just not ready…"

"Sansa," Jamie said as she slipped from his arms and out the door. He stood there quietly for a moment processing what had happened.

* * *

 _ **Jon Snow**_

The fire crackled and burned in the fireplace as Jon watched flames, hoping to see a glimpse of something, anything that would tell him what the right thing to do was. The room was cold as ice from the winters chill, but Jon's skin burned with the warmth of the summer sun next to the fire – his eyes closing as he thought about the warmth of summer as child, but somehow as usual his thoughts turned into thoughts of Sansa.

He heard the door creak openly quietly after a gentle tap, a sound he used to look forward to, when Sansa would come to visit him at night usually to apologize for some offense or to argue about something he had done. He would always take pleasure in watching the way her mouth moved, or the way the fire glimmered off her red hair, or even the way her chest would heave after she was done arguing with him or after he would make her laugh. He loved her laugh. He loved her smile. He loved the way her blue eyes lit up, but lately her eyes always seemed sad. When not, together he would see her standing about staring into nothingness, her eyes lost and full of turmoil. Perhaps she knew how he felt after all?

"Jon," her voice soft and subtle so only he could hear her. She was quickly beside him looking at the fire.

"You think me a bad ruler, don't you?" Jon asked not looking at her, he didn't want to give away his emotions, he was to proud.

"Of course not, Jon, I think you a great ruler, but…" Jon laughed softly, looking down at his feet.

"There's that word again… 'but'," he joked. Sansa sighed.

"I just don't think you should go," Sansa tried to justify herself, but his silence told her that wasn't what he wanted to talk about right now.

"You smell like him," Jon said, now finally turning to see her reaction, to look in her eyes, to see if the rumors he heard were true.

"He is my guard, of course I do," she was convincing, though her heart raced.

"Is that all?" he asked, his eyes full of curiosity.

"Have you been at the drink again?" Sansa asked, her eyebrows furrowing into a unapproving scowl.

"No, Sansa, I have not," Jon said looking to the fire to poke it angrily, "he fancies you…"

"Who? Baelish?" Sansa asked quickly, knowing who he meant.

"Not that arrogant prick," Jon said looking back to her, "the other one…"

"Jamie is my protector," Sansa was cut off by Jon's scoff and half laugh.

"Jamie? Is it?" Jon asked in a mocking tone, one she not often if ever heard.

"What should I call him then?" Sansa asked equally as mocking.

"How about Lannister bastard? Kingslayer? Traitor? I could go on really," Jon said amused.

"Not funny," Sansa sighed.

"Do you fancy him?" Jon asked the question he didn't want to.

"Jon," she said softly not wanting to lie but not wanting to tell the truth.

"Sansa?" he asked not wanting to hear the truth himself.

"I enjoy knowing he is there if I need him," Sansa said to try and hide the truth while being honest.

"Am I not?" Jon's eyes grew dark as they digged into her own for answers.

"Not in the way I need…" she said honestly, looking down at her hands. She had almost told the truth he didn't want to hear without saying it.

"I don't want him around anymore," Jon turned away quickly, his face giving away his anger.

"Jon, you are leaving," Sansa said placing a hand on his shoulder.

"But I will be coming back," Jon slightly pulled away.

"Possibly with a queen on your arm, and then where will I be?" Sansa did not move her eyes from Jon's face, a face she had grown to love and memorize.

"Is that why you didn't want me to go deal with the treaty? You think I will fall for the Dragon queen?" Jon finally connected the dots, it wasn't because she thought he couldn't do it, but because she too was as insecure as he was. She feared him loving another.

"You could fall in love and leave, be the King of all of the Seven Kingdoms," Sansa's voice broke despite her efforts as she looked away. She was surprised when Jon's hand caught her face gently pulling it towards his, his eyes burying deeply into her.

"I will come back for you, Sansa," he said deeply, "nothing and no one could keep me from you."

"You say that now – "

"I say that forever," Jon said, pulling her into a hug, "a life without you is no life at all."

"I've heard she is beautiful," Sansa said as her arms clung around his neck, feeling the fur of his coat against her face.

"If you think anyone could be more beautiful to me then you – " he had pulled away to look in her eyes, letting go of a dangerous secret he never meant to reveal. But he couldn't not tell her, he couldn't stand the idea that someone like Little Finger or The Kingslayer could take his Sansa away. That she could ever think he didn't feel for her the way he did.

"Jon – "Sansa was confused, he had worked so hard to push her way to only now reveal his feelings. She was surprised when his soft lips landed on hers. His fingers winding up in her long red hair as he gently pulled away to look in her eyes, and before he knew it what meant to be an innocent moment an innocent kiss ignited into passion as his lips desperately grabbed at hers.

Sansa lost control of her own self-control as she met each of his passionate kisses with equal desire. She could feel the animalistic need in the pit of her belly, and for a moment she forgot about her conflicting emotions between her forbidden love for her half-brother and her growing connection with the brother of her enemy. Sansa's hands found their way into Jon's lock as she pulled him closer, moving from her chair into his lap, straddling him.

"Jon," she whispered against his lips, her body flowing with excitement and need as her hips rocked enticingly against his, feeling his manhood harden against her. She could feel Jon giving in as his hands roamed her body feeling her through her thick clothing. Sansa knew she would not get another chance like this and Jon was weaker then she was when it came to morals. If this were to be the only chance she ever gets, then she would take It without guilt.

"Sansa," Jon said between kisses, out of breath. She knew what he was going to try and say so before he could say much else she lifted her dress off so all she had on was her under garments. She was glad she wore something that didn't need lacing or unlacing in this moment, Sansa planted her lips on his once more as she removed the rest so he could not refuse. He may have started it but she sure as hell was going to finish it – this time he wouldn't be saying anyone else's name but hers.

Jon was almost speechless, to have Sansa fully undressed in front of him, not straddling him once again. It was something he secretly dreamed of, and then would feel ashamed. Sansa moaned softly as his hands traced the body he tried to imagine so many times but the real thing was so much better to him. She quickly began to unlace his britches, catching Jon off guard, he hadn't meant to let things get so far but somehow the fire had grown out of control and he knew if he didn't stop it now then it would sure consume him.

"Sansa," he said this time she could hear in his voice that he was trying to come back to reason, but she was far too gone, and she needed him. She just laid her lips on his to silence him once more. She knew if she was to get what she wanted, then she would need to be as sneaky and manipulative as Little Finger. Before he knew it she had mounted his hard throbbing manhood, he let out a moan as he felt her wet tightness slowly lower. Something he hadn't felt in a long time, and for some reason it felt better than it ever had. Jon couldn't help but grasp her with both hands one at her hip and the other under her bottom as she slowly rocked her hips in thrusting motions. Jon leaned his head forwards resting his forehead against hers trying to resist his own urges, but it was pointless. Sansa placed both her hands on his face lifting it so his eyes were on hers.

"Do you know who I am," she said her eyes deeply penetrating his own. She could see the desire the desperate need for her in his eyes.

"I know who you are," he understood what she was asking.

"Then say it," Sansa demanded.

"Sansa," he whispered, her lips falling to his, their tongues tasting each other as he stood up, his arms wrapped around her legs as he carried her to his bed.

Sansa loved the way he touched her, the way his mouth began to explore her body, nipping at her neck, and trailing kissed down to her breast. Sansa squirmed in delight when she felt his hand reaching between her legs, exploring her womanhood and feeling her wetness. Jon loved the sound of her moan, it almost seemed like he was in one of his dreams, unaware of the reality. For a moment he let go of all of the shame, all of the guilt he knew he should and would feel, and for this moment he was just a man and she was just a woman – a beautiful and perfectly sculpted woman. He enjoyed the feeling of her hard nipples against his tongue as his fingers slipped around her womanhood teasing Sansa.

When Sansa's need for him to be inside her grew to much to bare she took him by surprise when she pounced on him, holding his wrist down while she mounted him once more. This time instead of gentle flicks of her hips, she rode him with great passion and desire. Jon looked up at the beautiful creature above him, her red hair messy and flowing around her as her breast bounced with each move she made her head and back arched back as she embraced the fullness of his manhood.

Sansa squeaked softly when Jon surprised her, grasping her hips and rolling her over. Her hands reached up to trace the ripping muscles on his chest as he entered her once more, each thrust bringing her closer to completion. Her arms wrapped around his neck as Jon lowered himself to kiss her, one of his hands roaming her body as if to memorize it. Sansa could feel it again that fire ripple through her as she softly begged Jon to not stop, which he vigorously obliged. Her fingernails dug into his skin as her legs tightened around him, but he did not stop, thrusting quicker as he slid in and out of her until finally he too came undone. Jon collapsed on her, his head laying upon her naked breast as her creamy legs wrapped around his.

They laid in silence for a while, until they had fallen asleep like this, her hand gently stroking his hair, while the other gently drew little patterns onto his back, the deep rising of her chest all lulled him into a peaceful sleep, possibly the first real peaceful and relaxed sleep he had ever had.

When Jon had finally awoken he looked up to see a sleeping Sansa, her naked form beneath him, her legs still wrapped around his. He observed her face so peaceful as she slept, one hand under her cheek the other still wrapped in his hair. Jon gently tried to get up but his stirring woke Sansa up.

"Jon?" she mumbled softly.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered, the day had not begun yet, the fire still lit in the fire place but needing to be stoked.

"You were going to leave?" Sansa asked, her legs sliding off of his legs, he sat up, staring at the fire, guilt beginning to creep up.

"The fire needs tending," Jon lied. Sansa could hear it in his voice, the regret. Sansa didn't want this to be ruined, she didn't want it to end either. Jon sat at the edge of the bed staring into the flames not sure what to do next. Sansa quickly moved behind him, sitting in a position where she could wrap her legs around his waist. Jon did not protest but he did get tense.

"Jon," Sansa said softly, wrapping her arms under his, kissing his back where and his shoulder.

"Yes, Sansa," he said looking back gently, covering one of her hands with his own.

"I don't regret any of it," Sansa said against his skin as she peppered his skin with more delicate kisses.

"Sansa – " before he could tell her it was a mistake she gently nibbled at his ear, surprising him, as she reached around to grab his manhood. Her hand wrapped around it as it hardened quickly, her hands were so soft and delicate but at the same time they showed him no mercy as she began to arouse him. His head rolled back as if she had taken over him, " – by the gods Sansa."

"Jon," she whispered into his ear, enjoying the hold she seemed to have of him. She could feel him throbbing in her hand, full of desire and want. She wanted Jon, and she wasn't going to let him make her feel guilty for it. If this was the only night she would ever get with him, she would make the best of it. Jon quickly stood up surprising Sansa, as he tried to catch his breath. He took a few steps, before laying his head into his hands.

"I know what we did – " Jon began to try and say, but Sansa quickly closed the gap before he could finish turning her down. The sight of her naked form walking towards him rendered him speechless as her hand hooked around his neck and her lips landed on his. Again, he melted into her kisses, the need for her overtaking his reason, "I don't know why something so wrong feels so right…"

"Maybe because it's not so wrong?" Sansa said between kisses as she pushed him gently against the wall. Jon couldn't take it anymore, he quickly turned her so she was against the wall as he lifted her up her legs wrapping around his waist as he entered her again. He felt he could be lost forever inside of her has he thrusted into her using the wall as a brace. Sansa moaned with each powerful thrust, his desire and overwhelming need for her taking over and powering him. He then moved Sansa still wrapped around his waist back onto his bed where he made love to her. Finally, they fell asleep together once more, her head resting gentle on his chest as her leg wrapped over his waist. He buried his face into her hair letting go temporarily of his guilt allowing himself a moment of happiness.


	5. Chapter 5: Heavy Hearts

Authors note: SEX WITH TWO EXPLAINED - Some people may be unhappy about Sansa hooking up with both men, but keep in mind all her childhood she was taught that her womanhood was her greatest power, that was her greatest tool for manipulating, and then Ramsay used her womanhood against her. So part of her is going to feel vulnerable and needing of a reminder that it isn't meant to be used as torture, and another part of her wants to experience the power it has over a man. Jamie was a moment of weakness and attraction, and Jon is someone she doesn't want to lose. Jamie was that moment of vulnerability where she gets to experience her sexuality as not a horrible experience, and Jon she gets to experience the power she truly holds and to what she thinks is her greatest weapon – when in reality its her wits and thought process. So try not to be angry or weirded out she would sleep with both, neither were planned, she isn't trying to be a slut which is a terrible word people use to tell women its not okay to be sexual but its okay for men to do it, etc etc. Let Sansa experience the wonder it can be! This will be an all Sansa chapter as she will be coming to terms with a lot because of the guilt of sleeping with two men and her feelings for both and the reality of what she will have to lose.

Chapter 5: Heavy Hearts

 _ **Sansa Stark**_

* * *

Sansa woke with the feeling of the sun nipping at her cheeks, even though the harsh cold Northern winter also bit aggressively at exposed skin. She looked around to see she was in Jon's room and that the prior night had not been in fact a dream, but reality, she wasn't sure what had possessed her and a sense of guilt kicked in at the realization she had just been intimate with not only two guys: but her brother and her family's prior enemy.

She felt a shame she didn't know she could feel, but then she remembered the shame she felt each time after Ramsay visited her, belittled her, destroyed her humanity piece by piece. What happened with Jon was beautiful and though apart of her felt a shame for what happened with Jamie Lannister, she didn't fully regret the confidence the experience had brought her.

However, she knew by Jon's absence, that he was not feeling the same about their reunion as she was. Perhaps she pushed him too far. Sansa hugged her knees as she looked around his room, spotting a dress laid out on the edge of the bed, something Jon must have left behind for her. She quickly put the dress on and left the room, looking for Jon or anyone who could tell her where he was. She felt her face go pale when she saw Jamie approaching with Brienne, both laughing at something they found amusing. Sansa tried to smile awkwardly, for a moment she thought she saw a glimmer in Brienne's eye she hadn't noticed before, and she wondered if it was Jamie who put it there.

"Mornin' milady," Jamie said first, giving her a devilish smile.

"Mornin' Lady Sansa," Brienne said doing her usual head bow.

"Fair mornin' indeed," Sansa replied sheepishly, "do you by chance know where the King is?"

"Ah, him," Jamie said in a way that made Brienne look at him questionably, "he's busy setting plans to go meet his future potential queen."

"What?" the color seemed to leave Sansa's face, and Brienne felt like she was caught in between something important she was left out of.

"He's in the court room milady," Brienne said softly, but she looked at Jamie whose eyes were attached to Sansa's.

"Thank you, Brienne," Sansa curtsied quickly more before taking off towards where the lords would be gathered.

"Are you sure it's wise to interrupt his highness again?" Jamie asked jogging lightly to catch up to Sansa.

"Whatever do you mean?" Sansa asked shooting a sideways look at Jamie.

"I may have over heard him telling the guards to keep this quite from you," Jamie said with a smug smile Sansa wasn't finding amusing.

"He did now did he?" Sansa could feel her cheeks grow pink with anger, "then why are you telling me this?"

"Because It's you I am loyal to, not him," the way Jamie emphasized the end made Sansa wonder what he meant, she could see a seriousness in his eyes she didn't think was possible.

"Did you not swear fealty to the King?" Sansa asked, turning to look at Jamie now, the court room only feet away, unnoticing of the guards who were watching them.

"You are my King, not some Bastards from the south," Jamie said softly, taking Sansa's hand in his, "I swear loyalty to you, and to protect you."

"Jamie," Sansa said pulling her hand from him, "I treasure and respect your loyalty and protection, but please, do not take things too far. Do not misread what happened."

"I promise I will not, I just know if you go into that room, you will come back out hurt," Jamie grew serious again, and she could sense that he knew something that she didn't.

"Thank you for the concern, but I must go," Sansa gave him a weak smile, Jamie lifted her hand and gently kissed it before turning to leave, glancing back once more to see her red hair disappear to the court room.

"Sorry milady, I was told not to let anyone else in," one of the guards told Sansa whose face turned into one not so ladylike.

"I am the Lady Of Winterfell, and I wish to speak with my brother," Sansa said pushing passed the guard and into the room before the men could stop her.

"Sansa?" Jon asked looking up to see her face appear, his face looked pale and she could sense fear within him.

"May I speak with you?" Sansa knew how Jon felt about her arguing with him in front of the other Lords, and though it was hard for her to control herself, she tried time to time.

"Now is not a good time," Jon spoke loudly, but his eyes were gentle and locked on hers. They seemed sad and heavily burdened.

"Jon, when is a good time? We have Cersei Lannister attacking from the south and the white walkers from the North," Sansa sounded a bit pushier then she had meant to, "I need you to spare a moment."

"Perhaps the lady should just join in on the conversation?" Davos questioned, wondering why Jon wanted to keep it hidden from his sister so desperately.

"Aye, I suppose," Jon looked down, no longer able to look her in the eyes.

"As we were," Davos said as Sansa shakily took a seat beside Jon, she couldn't help but glance over at him, but was surprised to see a face in the crowd she didn't realize would be there, Lord Baelish.

"So to wrap this up and come to a conclusion," Jon said looking around at the faces watching him, "it is agreed that I should speak of an arrangement for the dragon queen, and I will ship out as soon as I am back from the wall…"

"Arrangement? What arrangement?" Sansa asked a little heatedly, "we don't owe her a thing."

"Sansa," Jon said politely not looking at her.

"No, Jon, we don't," Sansa felt as though the Northerners were pushing Jon towards the Dragon queen, "you don't have to do anything, you are the King, you make the decision."

"And I have!" he snapped looking down at her, "a King does what is best, and I am the one who has decided this, no one else."

Sansa was speechless, she tried to say something but she couldn't. For some reason, she found herself looking over to Lord Baelish, hiding in the corner of the room, plotting as usual. Sansa felt her heart race, and without asking permission she got up from her chair and left the room. Jamie was not far down the hall waiting for her.

"Milady," he asked sympathetically.

"You knew?" she asked angrily, directing all her anger at him. He was surprised to get a fist to the shoulder of his armor.

"I suspected, and heard the other guards talking," Jamie said quietly, "I tried to warn you."

"And Baelish, ugh, I should have taken him up on his offer," Sansa walked passed a confused Jamie.

"What offer?" Jamie asked turning on his heel to follow his lady.

"He offered me a crown on the iron thrown," Sansa said angrily, "Jon will never see me as…"

"As a lover?" Jamie asked in a tone that Sansa thought was irony.

"As an equal," she corrected him, "he may be the King, but I am the rightful daughter of Ned Stark and Catelyn Stark…"

"Though I see where you are coming from, having a husband like Little Finger would be the worst possible thing," Jamie said almost amused.

"How so?" Sansa nearly sounded childish and bitter.

"Well for one he killed your father," Jamie said it but he knew the moment he said it by the look on her face that she didn't know this, "Sansa…"

"No, please," Sansa began to choke up, "you must tell me."

"Now isn't the time," Jamie said placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Tell me!" she yelled startling him, the tears on her cheeks a mixture of rage and confusion.

"He was the one who plotted with Cersei to bring your father down, he held the knife to his throat that day, after tricking him into the situation," Jamie spoke softly as if speaking to a child. Sansa began to collapse but Jamie was quick in his attempt to catch her, holding her steady in his arms against the cold metal of his silver and gold armor.

"Help me…" she sobbed into his armor, her hands in fists against his chest, his one arm around her back, and the other with his good hand stroking her red hair.

"Anything," Jamie whispered into her hair, and he knew he felt something for the poor girl in his arms, something more than a plaything to stroke the broken ego his sister caused him, but he felt something strong for the one person he never thought he would, Sansa Stark.

"Help me kill Peyter Baelish," she sobbed, his strong arms still holding her up. Jamie was a bit stunned, and didn't answer, he knew he would murder anyone for her, he would murder Jon or all the northerners, he would even murder Cersei for her at this point if she asked.

"What are you doing to my sister?" Jon hissed when he came around the corner to see what he thought was a Lannister holding and not releasing Sansa. The thought of what he may try to do to her made Jon's blood boil.

"Jon, no," Sansa said pulling away from Jamie, quickly wiping her eyes, but she could not fool Jon, her red eyes and tear stained cheeks made Jon assume the worst.

"What did this scoundrel do to you?" Jon pulled his sword out ready to attack Jamie.

"You don't want to do that," Jamie said mockingly, "first of all, I could still beat your royal highness, second of all I wouldn't do anything to milady that she didn't want me to…"

"You…" Jon didn't like this but before he could move forward to attack Sansa was in front of him.

"Jon, no, please," she begged, pleading him with watery blue eyes. He got lost in them for a moment, as his sword lowered.

"I don't like you," Jon said finally looking up to Jamie, "and I'll be watching you."

"I don't like you much neither. But you'll be too busy with the dragon queen," Jamie smirked not able to control himself, "while I'll be here with lady Sansa. I bargain I get the better end of the deal…"

"You wont be getting anything," Jon growled, but Sansa's grasping at his cloak caught his attention once more, "Can I talk to you, in private."

"Of course," Sansa said looking back at Jamie, through her sadness he could see she had a thirst for vengeance.

When they were alone in Jon's suite again, Sansa closed the door behind them after looking around to see who would see. She didn't know whether she should tell Jon about Little Finger, or if she should deal with it on her own. Jon was quiet as he stood by the fire.

"Did you go into his arms willingly?" Jon finally spoke up.

"I was sad, he was merely comforting me," Sansa said softly.

"You undermined me again today, in front of my men," Jon finally looked to her, the fire in his room glinting off his dark eyes.

"I am sorry if that's how it appeared," Sansa stood tall, "but sometimes you need to hear reason."

"Do you think me a fool?" Jon asked now walking towards her, he was close enough she could smell him, and how she loved his smell.

"I think you sometimes a fool, as you think me sometimes to bold and callous," Sansa said honestly, "let's not pretend we don't know each other well enough."

"You can't question me in front of them it makes me look weak," Jon argued rubbing his face in frustrating and exhaustion, _he didn't get much sleep last night_ Sansa thought in amusement.

"You think no one ever questioned Father?" Sansa asked bluntly.

"I think father wasn't KING in the North," Jon turned away, but Sansa grabbed his arm pulling him towards her again.

"No, he wasn't, but he was looked up to as one, until he lost his head for not thinking with his head rather than his morals," Sansa was a bit rough but she knew she needed to get through to him, "he would never align himself with a Targaryen."

"Is that what this is all about?" Jon laughed as he turned around to look at her once more.

"Yes, it is," Sansa said unashamed, "don't ask me to watch you marry another."

"Sansa, we can't do this," Jon finally said, the word he had been dreading, and the ones he knew she didn't want to hear, "you know we can't."

"So, we marry other people?" Sansa tried to not sound hurt but her voice cracked and gave way.

"You don't have to marry anyone, you can live out your days happily here, and I promise you that…" before Jon could finish Sansa hit him in the chest. Then another blow, and then her fist was wailing against him.

"You… you pompous arrogant prick! You're an ass Jon Snow! And you know nothing!" she said in between hits before he caught her wrist, but that just caused her to squirm and struggle. She finally stopped out of breath, pushing herself off of him, "to think I can just stay here watch you marry another while I remain a spinster?"

"You are my sister, Sansa!" he snapped back at her.

"Half-sister!" she snapped back, like it really made a difference.

"Still a sister," Jon tried to calm the situation down, but he could see there was already a fire in her eyes.

"You are not my brother Jon! You never were!" she shouted, loud enough he was certain the whole castle could hear her, "none of us saw you as anything other than the Bastard living in the shadows! Arya and Robb just took pity on you, and they were my siblings."

"Thank you for finally being honest about it," Jon snapped, but he could see behind the anger all the sadness she was holding back, he could see the wetness creeping in her eyes. He let out a sigh and grabbed her hand, which she pulled away, so he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. She was caught off guard when his hand gently stroked her face, and he left a soft kiss on her lips, almost as if to say goodbye, "whether we see each other as siblings, the North does."

"It's not far," Sansa whimpered.

"It's not," Jon agreed, pulling her in for a hug.

"I can't…" Sansa pulled away, "if you're going to go to Dragonstone, then I will be searching for a marriage of my own."

"Don't," Jon said still holding her arms, "don't do this to hurt me…"

"It's the opposite, Jon, its so I can stop hurting," Sansa said looking into his eyes.

"Just not that Lannister prick," Jon begged, "or Baelish…"

"A Lannister and Stark union might actually be what we need," Sansa said, not really having thought of it before, "Jamie does hold the largest force in the world, and it would get me far enough away I wouldn't have to watch you love another."

"Even if I marry anyone else, I will never love another," Jon said grasping her arms tightly. Sansa lifted her hand to wipe a tear away.

"You will eventually," Sansa knew how arranged marriages were supposed to work.

"No, Sansa, you will never understand," Jon sighed, gently stroking her cheek once more, "what happened the other night, as amazing as it was, it can never happen again. We cannot be caught doing anything so dangerous."

"I… I understand, I must let you go," Sansa nodded, inhaling deeply and trying to shove all her emotions deep inside her.

"I just ask you don't marry him," Jon couldn't seem to let it go.

"I don't think you have the right to ask me that, even as my King," Sansa said stepping back, "maybe he can erase my pain someday."

"Or maybe he will cause more, I just have a bad feeling about him," Jon said softly, when really, he didn't want her to marry anyone.

"Jon," Sansa sighed taking a step back, "why are you going to the wall?"

"What?" Jon asked, she had asked such a random question.

"I just remembered…" Sansa said looking to Jon.

"I received a raven that Bran is alive and at the Wall," Jon said softly, "we are going to go fetch him and bring him home safely."

"Truly?" Sansa asked with wide eyes, her little brother, still alive after all this time, "can I come with?"

"You are safer here, with Brienne, I need someone to keep everyone in line while I am gone," Jon said kissing her hand.

"Bran is truly coming home?" Sansa asked with a smile, a smile that made Jon's heart skip a beat, as he asked himself how he could stomach the idea of marrying anyone but her. He would gladly give his crown up for her, but the Night King was going to come for them all.

Authors note: to come next chapter! Jamie and Sansa plot how to murder little finger, while two guests arrive at Winterfell, Jon leaves to bring back Bran which leads Jamie to confess a shocking secret to Sansa that could change everything…


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